


A NEW BEGINING

by Justme47



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justme47/pseuds/Justme47





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The insidiousness of men is what it came down to. Before that, though, Mulder and I fought for a cause that we were lead to believe would be a colonization of our planet by aliens, from these same men. How blindly we followed their misdirection away from what they really had planned — their sleight of hand had us convinced of that supposed truth.  How wrong we were.

Who would ever believe one human or a group of humans would seek to destroy the entire human race for their own pleasure? Just because they could. But that's exactly what happened: They released a virus that devastated our planet, almost to ruin. Whatever they thought to gain from this evil plan, the fact is, no one won. It all came crashing down, and still, today, I can't fathom the ruthlessness of those men to have so little respect for human life; to kill everyone except the chosen, just because they could. To what end? Power?

It's almost darkly funny to me now — their mistake in all of this was if there was no one left, what power did they really have? Who would run their power plants? Who would build their cars? Just the basic necessities like food and water were hard to come by. They were so hell bent on being in power that it made them blind to the fact that the power they thought they had, wouldn't help them in the slightest because no one was left to use it against.

These so-called smart and powerful men destroyed the human race. Only saved a few. To have a planet all their own, but in the end, they were left with nothing — and they didn't last long once their food storage ran out, and they tried to leave their sanctuary of security. The sick I got to in time and treated with the vaccine, rose up against the monsters and did what needed to be done. All the monsters are dead now. Good riddance to them. Only a few thousand of us survived. Doing the best we can to repopulate the planet. To make again, what those hideous men destroyed.

We survived because of the vaccine I created, and people want to see me as some kind of God. I’m glad it helped so many, but in truth, I did what I had to do for selfish reasons: I wanted to keep Mulder alive and get him off that bridge. And it worked.

The next thing was to find our son. Hoping beyond all hope that he was still alive, knowing that if he was, he was probably alone and terrified. But we found him — we found William. In Wyoming, just where Monica said he would be.

He knew the instant he saw both of us, we were his real parents — there really could have been no question. He looked like a mix of both of us: Mulder's hair and height, my eyes and nose. We didn't even have to argue with him to come with us; when he saw us get out of the car that day, though he tried to hide it, the expression on his face was one of unmistakable relief. He was a sight when he ran out that door — dirty, nothing but skin and bones. But he was alive and showed no signs of the virus ever attacking him — just like me, his mother, he was immune. We all hugged each other for a very long time when we first came together, outside the house he called his home for 15 years.

Both of William's adoptive parents had succumbed to the virus in the first wave. He was on his own for several months. He told us that when he finally ran out of food, he had to scavenge from all the neighbors’ homes. We asked if any of them were still alive and he just shook his head no. Since there was no power, all the meats were off limits. He had been surviving on canned vegetables and fruits for all that time. But that was all there was. He said occasionally he would get lucky and find a can of tuna, or potted meat or vienna sausage. He wished he had paid more attention when his dad had taken him hunting for game those few times. Maybe then, he would have been able to hunt for deer or squirrels -- but he didn't have the patience for it back then. His mind was always on other things like basketball and baseball. Even if he had been able to kill an animal to eat, he would not have been able to clean it. He remembers when he and his dad had killed that buck last winter. His dad had kept telling him to "pay attention, Will -- shooting the deer is only half the battle. Knowing how to clean it properly is the other half -- not to mention -- the most important." Will thought it was gross and didn't want to get his hands bloody. It's understandable. What teenager would think their world as they knew it would cease to exist within a year. That the lesson his father was trying to pass down would be so valuable. It was a lesson he learned the hard way when it all went to hell. Mulder spoke up to reassure him -- that would be rectified. His exact words were, "not to worry, Will. I will teach you everything you need to know, to survive." I couldn't really tell if that made Will feel better or not. He didn't smile nor did he look upset. Unsure is probably the better word for it. In these horrible times, though -- it's a no brainer. You want to live -- you have to hunt.

To William’s intense relief, Mulder and I pulled our food stash from the vehicle along with our bags and went in the house. We all just kind of stared at each other smiling for what seemed like hours, but in reality, was only minutes. I made William bathe before we ate, and as he was doing so, Mulder and I just held each other, hardly daring to believe he was actually with us. We had grins from ear to ear.

We were a long way off from everything being OK. But at that moment, in that space and time, for the three of us — all was right in the world.  
There was no entertainment to be had at the house, no distractions — and with that much unclaimed time, we began to talk.  
Telling William why I did what I did when I gave him up — that was the hardest conversation I ever had to have. I cried, Mulder cried, and William, although he didn't cry, had tears in his eyes. We all gravitated to one another and sat in silence. Holding each other. Mending long overdue wounds.

He told us, "My parents told me about you when I was younger. What dangerous jobs you had. That you gave me up because I was in danger and you couldn’t protect me from it. So you did the only thing you knew how to do. You sent me far away so the danger would stay away from me."

He wasn’t angry; he was understanding. I said a silent prayer of thanks for that, and for his parents who helped him reach that understanding instead of hardening his heart toward us.

He told us all about his adoptive parents, how they loved him, cared for him, made sure he never wanted for anything. And he told us what happened to his parents when they got sick, how he took care of them the best he could but it had only taken a couple of weeks for them to die. When they did pass, he had had to take them out in the back and bury them. All by himself.  
As he told us this my head was bowed and tears pricked my eyes. I could not fathom what he must have gone through. I could not believe how strong he was. But thinking about the death of my own mother, not that long ago, how horribly that had hurt and how it felt as if my heart had been ripped away — or when we found Mulder in the woods after being returned by the ship, dead for all intents and purposes; burying him — I realized that maybe I did, in fact, have some idea how hard that must have been for my son.

He told us about himself, what he liked to do — he loved all sports. Well, of course, that would be a given — he is Mulder's son, after all. Mulder’s beaming face as he listened to William talking about what positions he played in basketball and baseball made me tear up; it was almost too much to take. Mulder only got to spend three days with us after William was born before I made him leave to keep him from harm. All of us in the same room, together — it was the happiest I'd been in a long time, even if it was the end of the world.  
Eventually, though, we knew we had to get back to our plan; a few days after our arrival, we sat down with William and explained that we wanted to take him with us to Virginia, where we would start over, as much as we could — a family once again. We were still afraid he might refuse, but we needn’t have worried; he was nothing but relieved.

We packed what we could take with us and began the slow journey back home, looking for survivors as we went. There weren’t many; all of the sick who hadn’t been treated within a week of exposure had died. The exceptions were those who had been smart enough or lucky enough not to leave their homes; they didn’t get infected immediately, but once they ventured out, the virus was there, waiting for them.  
I discovered a certain ruthlessness in myself, via the ad hoc triage system I developed en route: Some people too far gone to receive the vaccine didn't get it; there was just no use in wasting it, which was heartbreaking but necessary. I gave the vaccine only to those whom I thought could survive, along with instructions for how to create more of it. They would have to get their own supplies, working from a list I provided, and use their own blood once they had been treated themselves. I did my best to teach everyone we found, but it was most helpful when we came across a nurse or doctor in a group who could take charge once I’d left.  
I told them what to look for in people the vaccine would save — and how to determine whether a patient was too far gone, grim though that task certainly was. Most importantly, I told them all to spread the word on how to make and administer the vaccine. It was vital to our survival.  
We also gave our address to all the survivor groups we found and kept our own list of the names, occupations, and locations of everyone we came across; it would be valuable information in the future, as our home became the base camp of our new world.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Chapter 1

 

It's been 18 months since we arrived back home with William, and frankly, our newly re-formed family took some getting used to; teenagers are still teenagers, even after an apocalypse. But for the most part, despite the external conditions, Mulder and I are in a total state of bliss. We have our son. 

William is smart — a credit to both his parents, if I may say so — and has Mulder's wit and charm, but also a temper, the source of which is undeniable: Mulder often grumbles, “Now I have two Scully tempers to put up with."  
If he wasn't smiling when he said it, I might take offense. But as it is, I just smile back and give him a kiss to make it better. And it does.  
I don't think I have ever witnessed such a transformation of another human being in my life: Mulder, the FBI agent; Mulder, the believer in UFOs, Bigfoot, or any other phenomenon; I have seen and loved them all. But Mulder the father, makes that love I have for him intensify to infinity. 

He is the best father a young man could ask for. The patience he shows Will, the love I see pass from one to the other — it is amazing to witness. They’re like best friends. Setting out on daily excursions. Mulder, true to his word, taught Will everything he needed to know about hunting. It took some getting used to on Will's part. The gutting and cleaning of the meat; that was the worst of it for him. But finally, it has become commonplace, and Will sometimes goes by himself. Bringing back a buck or several squirrels -- cleaning them without help but with Mulder always close by just in case. Both of them have tons of energy -- playing basketball until it gets dark. Throwing the baseball — Mulder is in awe of Will’s fastball. I, of course, could not tell you the difference between a fastball or any other kind of ball, but it doesn't matter. I enjoy just sitting on the back porch and watching father and son enjoying themselves. The laughter between the two is the best noise I have ever heard in my life. If fills me with so much joy. Mulder definitely keeps him busy. I think often: _We did it, mom. We finally got our son_. I know she and my father are looking down and smiling.

Even though life is not perfect, I have no complaints because I know the darkness that used to follow us is gone and I don't see it returning. We are all together and there is so much love between us. In my heart, I’m certain that the world will eventually be right again, and in the meantime, our family is the best thing a mom could ever ask for; to me it is perfect. 

At the end of each day, the three of us take a stroll around the property, out to the lake. Sometimes we sit quietly, others we’re up and talking, but every time the sun starts to set, we are still, and watch with gratitude and amazement.

Today has been a long day. Mulder and Will set out early this morning into town to fill our many gas cans to keep our generators running around the clock. That done, they both grabbed their shotguns and headed out into the woods around our home in search of deer. We like to have plenty of meat on hand in case someone shows up; when they do — and it seems more frequent, lately — they are always hungry and in need of clothes or medical attention. 

An old-fashioned sort of mail service has cropped up among many of the survivor groups here and there, in which our house has become a known hub. When someone wants to get news from one place to another, they send someone with it or give it to someone already traveling to deliver. Today one such traveler showed up here, ringing the bell at our locked gate. Try though we do to be welcoming, it isn’t wise to be lax with security; there are drifters now and again, would-be robbers and worse; Mulder has had to run a few off with a threat of death. None of us go unarmed. It's just what has to be. So I set out the 200 yards to the gate with my sidearm tucked into my waistband. 

"What can I do for you?" I ask, direct but not unfriendly. 

The traveler is a young man, no more than 18 or 19, eyes oddly bright (from pain? fever? no way to tell yet), dirty from the road and lack of laundry facilities but put together with care. 

"My name is Nathan. I have some mail for you, and I need a doctor — I have a bad cut. It’s infected and it doesn't look good. I was told to bring you this letter and see if you could help me. I mean you no harm, I assure you." 

"Are you in need of the vaccine as well?" I ask him.

"No, ma'am. I had the vaccine a year ago. I’m virus free,” he responds.

I already know this; I can tell by the color in his face and the lack of obvious sores. However, even though I know the Syndicate are all dead, and that there never were any aliens, we still take every precaution. I doubt we’ll ever shake the fear that somehow the darkness that always seemed to find Mulder and me, will find us again — and we will be prepared if it does.   
I let him know I am armed and a former FBI agent, well-trained and very adept at taking care of myself. He assures me again that he means me no harm, and I decide to believe him for the moment. 

“Who is the letter from?” I ask as I open the gate. 

He says, “A Mr. Skinner.”

I am stunned. "Walter Skinner?" 

Nathan shakes his head yes. I feel tears blurring my eyes even as the news brings an immediate smile to my face. Mulder and I were never able to find out what happened to Walter after everything went to hell, but we thought if he were alive, resourceful as he is, he’d have found a way to us before now. What a welcome surprise to finally have news of him — though we never spoke of it out loud, I think we had long since both feared him dead. 

I lock the gate and we walk back to the house, me a cautious half-step behind Nathan.   
Once inside, he gives me the letter, addressed to me and to Mulder in a hand I’d seen scrawled on a thousand documents a lifetime ago. I’m desperate to read it, but I am a doctor and this is my patient who is in need; I set it aside and say, “Let’s tend to your injury first. Show me.”  
He lifts his shirt to reveal a four-inch-long laceration across his rib cage, oozing pus, red along its edges. It has an odor. Definitely needs to be cleaned and dressed immediately, with IV antibiotics to start getting this under control. I think if this young man had not made it here today, he would not have made it at all; once infection hits the bloodstream, sepsis sets in, leading to organ failure and death faster than most people would imagine. 

By a combination of luck and foresight, I have the supplies to stock the makeshift E.R. that takes up half of our kitchen: After I got Mulder off that bridge and back to good health, everywhere we went, we gathered equipment, medicines, and tools, not to mention weapons and ammunition — everything we could think of that might be of use. We have those generators for power, and refrigerators full of food and medicines. We made and stored plenty of the vaccine, although we haven't really had any need for it for some time now. 

I tell Nathan to take off his shirt and lie back on the examining table. I slowly and methodically inspect the wound, which I know is painful — I can see it in his eyes, though he doesn’t say anything. I also look for any fractures on his rib cage but don’t find any, thank goodness. I ask him how he got such a bad cut; he says he fell onto a rusty saw blade while chopping wood for a fire. I give him a local anesthetic before cleaning the cut, suturing the wound, and placing a drain for the pus. Finally, I hook him up to an IV and give him Vancomycin, a very strong antibiotic, along with 2 mgs of morphine to ease his pain and a tetanus shot just to be safe. He falls asleep pretty quickly after that — the morphine doing its job.

I scrub out, then sit down at the table, opening the letter at last.

17 Apr 18

  
Mulder and Scully,

I hope this letter finds you both well. I had no idea until just this past week that you were even alive. I sent you Nathan. He is wounded and I hope, Dana, you are able to help him. He is a very bright young man and is in need of your medical expertise.   
I would also like to know if there is room for approx. 50 people including Nathan and I to come your way. We have no doctor among us, and several pregnant women plus a number of children who need medical attention. The people I am bringing are all clear of the virus thanks to your vaccine, Dana (including me — thank you for that). All of us have something to offer in way of working skills and would not be a drain on your resources, whatever state they are in.  
Please send a reply back ASAP with Nathan, assuming he recovers.   
Skinner.

Today is May 3rd. Nathan, young and spry but wounded, made it here in just a little over two weeks; they can't be that far away. Probably D.C. or the surrounding area. I am thrilled Skinner is safe and well but — is there room for 50 people out here? I think so. No one who lived close to us survived the attack, so all those homes are empty; I think everyone in the group could be adequately housed. Another thought: What a great thing it would be for Will if there are teenagers in the bunch. His dad and I are all he has and he loves us, and we love him, but I know he would enjoy some kids his own age. 

I will wait to reply until I talk to Mulder, of course. Which if the sun in the sky tells me anything, should be soon, but I already know what his answer will be: The more the better. I wonder if he and Will were lucky? If we do have more people coming this way, we're definitely going to need all the food we can get.

My mind races ahead, planning and considering the needs of an expanded community, as I get up and check on Nathan. His vitals are good so far. I unhook the Vanco drip since it's done, at least until I administer another dose this evening. He’s still knocked out from the morphine — and, I am sure, pure exhaustion. I hook up a saline drip for him to ward off dehydration, and then start making dinner after taking a moment to put the kettle on the stove for some tea.

Looking out the window of the kitchen while sipping on my second cup of Earl Grey, I spot two figures winding their way out of the woods with what looks like the biggest buck of the season. Will and Mulder have it strung to a tree branch by its hooves to make transporting it easier. That should definitely fill the freezers in the basement for a few months. I can tell by their gaits that they are tired, but a good kind or tired — like men who just came back with the kill of a lifetime; standing tall and proud. 

As they get close to the house I walk outside and yell, "Impressive!"

Will beams a smile up at me and counters, "All mine, mom. I took him down with one shot."

I look over at Mulder and as you would expect any father to be, he was proudly sharing in his son's accomplishment. 

Mulder says excitedly, "You should have seen him, Scully. The buck was about 80 yards away. Will perched his rifle on a tree branch and lined the sights. Never hesitated. One shot to the heart and the buck fell where he stood. My boy has a good eye just like his mother.”

I smile when I hear this. I've always been the better shot. Will definitely got this from me. "Good job, Will. I couldn't have done any better." I say as I Walk down the porch steps towards them both while they set the buck down. I pull Will into an embrace and then quickly release him and ruffle his hair. He hates it, I know, but allows it because he knows it makes me happy. Then I remember I have my own news to share.

“We have a visitor inside. He showed up about two hours ago — wounded — and brought some mail,” I say. I look at Mulder, who eyes me with concern. I tell both of them it's ok, then explain about Nathan’s injuries. 

Mulder says, "What mail? You said he came with mail.”

"That he did. And you'll never guess from who, Mulder: It's from Skinner. Can you believe it? -- Skinner is alive." 

Mulder releases a loud sigh and smiles and says, "The Skinman's alive? Where?" 

I tell him I don't know — we’ll have to wait until Nathan awakes to find out — but that the letter is on the table in the kitchen waiting for him to read. 

Will asks, “Who's Skinner?" 

I let him know that it's Mr. Skinner to him, and that he used to be our boss at the FBI.

Mulder and I have discussed, many times, what Will needs to know and what he doesn't. We don't want to worry him with alien conspiracies and all the horrors we’ve been witness to, so I don't delve into all the madness of what the X-Files were, nor the details of what Mulder and I really used to do. But I tell him enough that Will gets the picture, adding that Skinner is looking to come this way with 50 others; the first thing Will says is, “I hope there are some kids my age.” Only 18 months since we've had him back with us and I am already attuned to my son's needs. I just smile and ruffle his hair again and tell him I was thinking the exact same thing.

Mulder and Will set out to get the buck cleaned and cut up before darkness falls and I go back into the house to check on Nathan and get our evening meal ready; this day is far from over, for any of us. 


	3. Chapter 3

  
CHAPTER 2

 

It's been 3 weeks and 3 days since we sent Nathan back to Walter. We let him rest up and heal with us for a week, then — instead of letting him walk back, we gave him a 4-wheeler and a few cans of gas, plus enough food to last him on his journey back to D.C. And yes, that is where they are, all 50 of them, holed up in the Federal Building, if you can believe it. 

While Nathan was here, he told us they have buses to use for the big move, and a couple of trucks to bring the supplies they have on hand. I asked Nathan why he didn’t drive here, especially since he was injured; he said they didn't want to use the gas, which apparently is hard to come by in D.C. Mulder told Nathan how to get gas out of the pumps at gas stations, explaining that that’s how we keep things running out here: Make sure you have a generator to power up the gas pumps. 

Mulder and I sent Nathan back with a letter telling Walter how happy we were to hear from him — leaving unstated our prior assumption that he was probably dead — and that we are looking forward to having him and his group come and make this their home. We included a list of things that will be key to getting this new community up and running properly. First on the list: Bring seeds for planting vegetables and wheat. Then, as many high end generators as they could carry; Walter’s a resourceful guy, he’ll know how to find them. Gas: Imperative, as much as they can transport. Weapons and ammo, of course, and whatever meat they have on hand. We also wrote that it would be useful if they could hunt for game on their way to us; we have lots of wildlife out here — we’re surrounded by woods — but with an extra 50 mouths to feed, it might not last long. Eventually we’ll have to range farther afield to feed ourselves, but it’s dangerous even with the Syndicate gone, and we’ve been putting it off as long as we can. 

But as serious as life is now, there are some bright spots; one is that while Nathan was here, he and Will became buddies. Will is almost 17 now, so it's not surprising. It's like Nathan is the older brother Will never had. It was good to see them laugh and joke with each other. And of course, some things about life as a teenager are the same as ever; I overheard them talking one day, and it seems there are several pretty girls around their age, one of whom is Nathan’s girlfriend. I was glad to see Will’s smile, but as his mother, I also had to go tell Mulder. He laughed at my concern -- laughed. 

"Scully, our son is almost 17 and full of hormones. You don't even want to know what I was doing at 17." 

I swatted his arm, telling him he was right — I absolutely did not want to know what he was doing at 17. Maybe I should include condoms on the list of things to get while they were on their way. 

Mulder made one of his less-scary intuitive leaps then, assuring me, "Don't worry, mama — I've already taken care of it. I have two cases of condoms stored. Will and I got them on our way into town one day a few months back. I also had *The Talk* with him."

"The talk, Mulder? The sex talk? Is that what you’re telling me?" 

He just smiled and nodded, pulling me to him. "I can demonstrate for you if you're having trouble understanding the whole sex thing." I couldn’t answer just then, on account of his tongue in my mouth …   
Mmmmm, it has been a week or so since we had the sex thing. “I’m starting to understand, but maybe if you could … just … show me more,“ I finally manage. His hand was sliding under my top, working its way to my breast, when there was a knock on the door that made us both jump. 

"Mom!” Will called.

"Yeah, Will,” I answered — in a surprisingly even voice, considering. 

"Just letting you know, Nathan and I are gonna go see if we can get a couple deer. Is that ok?"

"Yeah — uh, that's fine by me. Go find your father and ask him, though." Trying to play off the fact that we just got busted by our kid.

"Dad, we'll be back before dark. Is that ok with you?" 

Mulder chuckled, muffling it a little on my neck. “OK, son. If you need help use your walkies." 

I added, "Be careful. Make sure you wear your hunting vests." 

"Yeah, yeah — got it. You guys have fun,” Will said, with laughter in his voice. His too-big feet made a racket in boots as he clomped off. 

"Mulder," I said, looking at him with my eyebrows raised. "What the hell was that?" 

Mulder laughed, and his eyes darkened just a bit. "I might have told Will that Mom and I needed some *alone time* today." 

Again I smacked Mulder, who took that as his cue to to grab my arm and roll me over on top of him. I could feel his erection already rock hard. With our foreheads touching I looked into his eyes and just as always, so much love there. It had always melted my heart; this day was no different. Our love is the glue that holds us together, the fuel that keeps us going; it always has been. Knowing we had most of the day to ourselves — a first since we brought Will home — we made use of every minute. It was delightful and wild — and we both needed it, so badly.   
Hours later, as we lay draped over each other in the scrambled mess of the bed, I noted two things: I was sore as hell (but a welcome sore), and I was happy. 

Mulder's stomach growled; he rolled over to tell me that he would love to stay in this bed for another four hours, naked and making love, but he knew Will and Nathan would be home any time now; hungry, and probably in need of help cleaning their kills. I groaned, but I knew he was right — it had just been so nice to be with my man without any interruptions, I hated for it to come to an end. I grabbed Mulder for one more passionate, lingering kiss, then let him get up. I got dressed, made a pit stop in the bathroom, then headed to the kitchen to set things in motion for that night’s dinner.

***  
After Nathan left on his journey back to DC, Will and I counted the days until Walter arrived with our new guests — a simple system, just tally marks in groups of seven. The line today indicated it had been exactly one full month since Nathan had left. I could tell with each passing day, Will became more discouraged. I'm sure he was thinking in the back of his mind about his adoptive parents and what had happened to them — not that Nathan could die from the virus, just that bad things happen to good people, especially in a world populated only by scared survivors. I’ve tried all along to reassure him that Nathan is fine and all will be ok, but with every day that brings no Nathan and no word — I worry too. I won't let Will see this, of course, but I know Mulder senses it. Just as we’ve made today’s mark, Mulder shows up in the kitchen.   
Seeing the two of us sitting there, me with my arm around Will's shoulders, he says, "Why the looks of doom and gloom?" 

"Dad,” Will says, fear in his voice, “today Nathan has been gone exactly a month. What if he didn't make it back to D.C.?"   
Mulder puts his hand on Will's shoulder, smiles and tells him, "Will, Nathan is strong and was well supplied with everything he needed to get back to Walter safely. We gave him a pretty long list of items they need to bring with them when they arrive. That takes time. Don't worry, son. Your mother and I have known Walter for a very long time. He will not start the journey out here until he has everything we told him to bring and then some." 

Will looks up at his dad and smiles back. "Thanks, Dad." 

Mulder nods, adding briskly, “Time to get going. We've got the last two houses to clean and fix up today.” 

Will says he'll get the four-wheelers loaded with the tools and cleaning supplies, and heads out the back door. 

Mulder pulls me to him. “I know you're worried, Scully. But you and I both know I’m right about Walter — he’s not gonna make the trip unprepared. He will be here." 

"I know, Mulder. I just get worried. I can't help it. Every day Will puts another line on that piece of paper, my stomach feels more unsettled." 

"Well, settle it. They’ll be here soon." 

"Is your Dark Wizardry scanner telling you this?" I ask with a wry smile. 

"Why yes, Doc. Yes it is." He chuckles, tightening his arms around me, kissing me until my knees feel weak. 

I start to run my hand under his shirt, but he grabs my wrist and stops me. "No time, Scully." 

"You started it, Mulder. Not fair to leave me hanging like that." 

"Oh, Scully. No worries. I got your back when I get back. Don't get your panties in a wad." 

"No wad, Mulder. Just wet." 

"Scully! You, my love, have the mouth of a sailor." 

"Shut up, Mulder. Get out of here so you can have my back sooner rather than later, please." He winks at me and heads out the back door.  
There’s still so much to be done. Since the day Mulder and I made it back here, off that damn bridge, after Mulder was healthy again, we spent days — which turned into weeks, going from neighbor to neighbor, trying desperately to find any signs of life. We found none. Some houses were just empty. Some had bodies. 

We thought the best course of action was to burn the bodies. Burying them seemed dangerous to us; we worried that whatever was in that spartan virus might seep into the ground, eventually contaminating the water supply, and the ground and everything we might try to grow from it. We didn't want to take any chances. So we went as fast as we could and as long as we could each day. Pulling infected bodies from their homes, making fires hot enough to burn those bodies and the virus that had invaded them. It was a grim and daunting task. There were 54 houses to clear, most farmhouses with lots of land. Many had barns and animals that had also been infected and now lay dead; those had to be burned as well. That first sweep took weeks, some of the worst weeks of our lives; these had been our neighbors and friends. We said kind words as we watched them go up in smoke, their ashes rising through the flames, floating to the sky, becoming starlight. We didn't do it thinking one day others will take over these homes and live in them with their families; for us, it was simply the right thing to do. But as luck would have it, it meant that we now had 54 homes available for Walter and his group. This was a good thing.

Will and Mulder, then, have spent the entire month since Nathan’s departure going house to house, cleaning, making repairs, checking to be sure we didn’t miss anything before; some of the people who died in their homes had already started to decay by the time Mulder and I got to them. Decaying bodies and furniture is not a good mix. It is impossible to get the smell of death out of fabric; into the fire went all furniture that was no longer usable. 

The two of them made several trips to the nearest town, just five miles down the road. It wasn’t much of a town, for sure, even before the apocalypse — one traffic light that didn't work, other than to sway in the breeze when there was one. A fast food joint that looked like it was built in the 40’s, now abandoned and ghostly. A small car dealership and a motorcycle/tractor shop, both of whose inventory we’ve been slowly poaching, from four-wheelers to John Deere tractors to helmets, goggles and gloves. Several gas stations, which have provided fuel for us, free of charge — or maybe we’re running a tab? 

There’s a Wal-Mart, not one of those superstores that had a grocery in it, but that’s where we got all the shotguns and their ammo. We also picked up long range walkie-talkies, which may have been the best find of all the items we have. When Will takes off alone to go hunting, it's nice to know that he is just a push of a button away — almost like a cell phone, but not quite. 

The very small shopping center had a grocery store, which is where we stocked up on everything non-perishable; it’s almost empty by this point. The drugstore, I picked clean, first thing; you can never have to many medicines and medical supplies on hand. That was next to the Chinese restaurant we use to frequent; then there’s the clothing store and shoe store, which we raid when we need to.   
At the end of main street, though, was the business with the wares we made most use of as we prepped for Walter’s group: a mom-and-pop furniture store. Nothing cheap and shoddy here — it was all beautiful, hand made, solid wood furniture. When Mulder and I first moved into our little house, we needed pretty much everything; we chanced to walk into this store, and I fell in love with the place immediately. The owners - Bob and Martha Gentry, a sweet couple who’d been married for 40 years before the outbreak - saw us so much, we all got to know each other. When I got Mulder back to good health, they were among the first people I wanted to check on. But just as with almost everyone else during those first very tense couple of weeks, luck or fate or whatever it was, wasn’t on their side; we found Bob and Martha sitting in rocking chairs holding each other’s hands, dead. They were burned along with all the other bodies. It feels like stealing, what we’ve taken from there — Will’s bedroom furniture, items to replace the things we had to destroy from other houses — but since Bob and Martha have passed on, they won’t miss it, and we know we have to do what’s necessary for the living. 

Now it’s a waiting game. Mulder and Will had created livable homes for our new arrivals, and continue to hunt daily. I tend to the garden, canning and preserving as many fruits and vegetables as possible. All three of us had to tackle the barn, which was quite an undertaking. We waited, watched, worked, as the days slipped by; one week, two, until — at last, when we had all but started to believe the group had met with some misfortune, or had decided not to come after all — one day I heard engines, not ours, roaring down the road. I ran to the front of the house and looked out the window — there they were: a convoy of buses, trucks, other vehicles … and Nathan heading up the rear on our four-wheeler. 

I grabbed my walkie and pushed the button: “Mulder, they're here."

A crackly, staticky yawp, then: ”We're on our way, Scully.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 3

 

I was astounded after seeing all the vehicles that pulled up out front. We all thought it would be just like Nathan said — a couple of buses and a few trucks. What I witnessed was not that. There were two buses, but there were also five trucks filled as high as possible, three of the largest U-Haul moving vans I had ever seen, and three tanker trucks. I guess Walter took our letter very seriously; the amount of gas, if that is what it was, in those tankers would last for a very long time. 

As the convoy pulled to a stop on our property, I walked out the front door and started toward the gate. The first person I saw was the one I expected to be in charge: Walter. He looked a bit older and a bit thinner than I remembered, but living through an apocalypse tends to do that to a person. The fact that any of us were still here was a miracle in and of itself. He waited patiently for me to come to the gate; his smile was such a nice thing to see. 

"You look well, Dana. I don't think I’ve ever seen your hair that long before,” Walter said warmly.

I opened the gate, pulling him into a hug. “You know, it's just so hard to find a good hairdresser these days. I thought I would just let it grow."

”Well, good thing for you, we have one of those with us,” he said as he let me go, gesturing at the slew of people behind him.   
As I looked at the group, they looked haggard and hungry but happy to be here at long last. 

"It's so good to see you, Walter, all of you, ” I said, seriousness returning. “We hadn't heard any news in so long, I won't lie, we were worried. When Nathan showed up and gave me that letter, Mulder and I read it over and over again. We’re so glad to have all of you here."

"I hear from Nathan, you have a new addition to your family. Not new, exactly, but — I am so happy for both of you.” I nodded, blinking back tears; he’s maybe the only other person left alive who knows what we went through. “Where are Will and Mulder now, anyway? I can't wait to meet your son.”

"They were out hunting. I called them on the walkie when I saw you all coming — they should be back any minute. You’ll recognize Will right away — he looks just like his dad, and has my temper. It’s …,” I paused, a little choked up. “It’s been such a joy to have him back in our lives. I couldn't have asked for anything more."

We would talk more later, but right then, we had business to take care of. I told Walter we had cleaned out the barn, to make a gathering hall; everyone could get out, stretch their legs, relax for a little bit. There was water and jerky, for anyone who wanted it, and as for parking — they could just leave the vehicles where they were for now; there was no need to worry about traffic, at least.  
I asked Walter to call for Nathan, and when he ran up I impulsively hugged him. “How are you, Nathan? How is your injury healing? Have you taken good care of yourself?”

He hugged back — pretty hard for a guy who’d had such a bad injury in the torso — saying “You fixed me up good, Doc. No complaints from me." 

I noticed a pretty young woman a couple of steps behind him. As my eyes went to her Nathan turned around and said, "Dr. Scully, this is my Sarah."

She was probably around Nathan’s age, and very pretty — a little taller than me, with blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin. One thing stuck out the most, though — literally: She was very, very pregnant.   
Nathan, sensing my surprise, said with shy pride, “Yeah, she's pregnant. We weren't trying to — it just kind of happened."  
“It tends to, yeah,” I almost laughed. I took Sarah by the hand and welcomed her, then went into doctor mode without thinking about it. “How far along are you?”

“Um, about seven months? Maybe more, I don’t really know,” she answered with a slight apology in her voice. She'd never seen a doctor about the pregnancy; there weren’t too many of those left. 

“Well, you needn't worry — either of you. You have a doctor now,” I assured them.   
We would get to prenatal care a little later; meanwhile, I asked Nathan to escort anyone who needed the bathroom inside. There were four pregnant women, including Sarah, and five kids under the age of 10. They all followed Nathan into the house. The men, being men, skipped the line and found their way into the woods on the side of the road to relieve themselves.   
I made a general announcement to the group: "When you guys are all ready, come out to the barn. That's where we'll be.”

The travelers followed us back around behind the house. While we waited for everyone to make it in, I spotted Will and Mulder edging out of the woods. They had a deer and what looked like a wild hog. We hadn’t seen one of those in a while — it would be a good first night feast for our new community. 

Walter and I met Will and Mulder outside the barn. 

Mulder smiled that toothy smile, putting his hand out to shake Walter’s. "Hey there, Skinman! You're looking a bit thin." 

Walter pulled Mulder's hand towards him into a hug and said, “Thin or not, Mulder, I can still kick your ass. Damn good to see you guys. Now how about you introduce me to the young man beside you."

"This is our son, Will. Will, this is mine and your mother's old boss, Walter Skinner." Mulder could not keep that toothy smile hidden. He was proud to be able to introduce his son to the only genuine father figure he’d ever had in his life. 

Will stuck his hand out to shake Walter’s, saying a polite ”Nice to meet you, Mr. Skinner." 

But Walter was having none of it — as he did with Mulder, he grabbed Will’s hand and pulled him into a hug. It took Will by surprise, but he hugged Walter back. I smiled, letting my son know it was ok. He knew we could talk about it later; at the moment, we had more pressing matters to attend to.

"So you two have been productive today," I said, looking at the game they walked up with. “A wild boar — we haven't seen one of those in ages."

Mulder said excitedly, “Yeah, they’re rare, but we saw seven more out there. If we could trap them and raise them on one of the farms, get them to breed, we would have meat for a long while. I don’t know the first thing about pig farming, but if we could get to a library —“

“We won’t need a library for this — there are at least a couple of farmers in the group. This would be right up their alley. They’ll be glad to have the work, too,” Walter said thoughtfully. “Everybody’s looking to make some sort of secure, productive place for themselves, I think.” 

Just then, Nathan came out of the back of the house. Will took off to greet his friend, then started helping guide everyone to the barn while Walter, Mulder and I talked. 

Walter asked, "So is there enough housing for everyone? Your letter said there was plenty of space out here.” 

"We have 54 houses ready to be occupied,” Mulder confirmed. “Will and I went through every one, cleaning and furnishing the best we could. I don't think anyone will be uncomfortable."

I agreed with that assessment, adding, "Mulder, you should go take a look out front. Seems Walter took our instructions to heart. There are three tanker trucks out there, which if I know Walter, are full of fuel. Plus three U-hauls, five trucks loaded to the gills, and two passenger buses."

Mulder smiled and looked at Walter. “You did good, boss man. What's in the U-Hauls?"

It was Walter’s turn to smile. “Well, she’s right — the tankers are full of fuel. We won't be needing to go in search of any for some time. Two of the U-Hauls are full of generators, as many as we could carry. The last U-Haul has seeds — any kind of vegetable and fruit you can grow from seeds, plus the wheat you asked for. That’s all stacked in boxes up to the roof of the truck — on top of the freezers full of meat.” 

“How —” Mulder started, and Walter interrupted, clearly proud of himself.

“The freezers — six very large ones, full to the brim with deer and wild boar — are running on generators. We had to modify the U-Haul to vent the fumes. Probably voided the rental agreement—” 

Mulder and I both laughed. Walter continued, “But it served its purpose.” He gestures to the rest of the vehicles. “The trucks have clothing and baby stuff. Toiletries and cleaning supplies. Shampoo and soap. If you can think of it, pretty damn sure we have it. We hit every store between here and D.C." He grins. “Those freezers’re gonna be a bitch to unload, though.”

"Well I'll be damned, Walter. You didn't let us down, now, did you? Scully and I have a pretty big tractor out behind the barn. I'm sure that with the manpower we’ve suddenly got around here, we can rig something up and use the tractor to get them out of there."

*****  
The time had come to go into the barn and meet our new guests. Walter matter-of-factly did the introductions, then turned the floor over to Mulder to explain the housing situation. 

“Scully — Dr. Scully — and I have written down the addresses of the houses our family has cleared out, and the basic layout of each.” He gestured to the papers hanging on the wall behind him. “I can’t vouch for taste in interior decorating, but my son and I have spent a month getting them ready for you, and I can guarantee these homes will be way more comfortable than a cot at the federal building.” A laugh rippled through the crowd, and Mulder smiled. “Since we've yet to know how big your families are, I think the easiest thing for everyone to do is just come take a look and see which one fits. Walter — knowing each of you and your families —should be able to help. But before we do that, let’s all hear from Dr. Scully herself about a few things that are undoubtedly on many of your minds.” 

He smiled at me, and I stepped forward a bit, his hand on my lower back a reassuring gesture from a former life.   
“Hello, new friends and neighbors,” I began, calm and professional. “I’m sure you all know by now from Walter, I am a doctor with a wide range of experience treating people in unusual circumstances, which I think we’d all agree this is.” Nods and murmuring from the group. “The clinic, such as it is, is up and running; starting tomorrow I would like to give everyone a brief checkup. Obviously, I want to start with those who are expecting, and any children who are sick, but we will work our way to everyone eventually. I will be available by 9:00 a.m. I’ve made an appointment book,” I gestured to the table behind me, “so if you will all pick an appointment time and put your names on the schedule -- that would be the best way to get things started. I doubt that any of you have medical records, but if by some miracle you do, please bring them.”   
I smiled at everyone, a crowd full of wide-eyed strangers hanging on my every word. I wondered just how bad things must have been for them in D.C. — pretty bad, if it was anything like what Mulder, Will and I had to witness coming back from Wyoming. There is definitely some PTSD going on there. Probably won't be a bad idea to have Mulder work with those I see presenting real issues. I’ll talk to him about it later, when we’re in bed — he is a psychologist, after all, even if his training was a long time ago. We’re all having to dust off old skills we thought we’d never use again. 

I thanked everyone for their attention, and welcomed them again, then stepped aside to let Mulder close the meeting. 

“Scully and I figured that after your journey here, finding a place to live is the first thing most of you will want to get taken care of. So, after you’ve made a first stab at the housing lottery — why don’t all of you get settled in, rest and clean up, and everybody meet back here at 8:00 P.M. for a welcoming feast? We, all three of us,” Mulder waved his hand over at Will and I, “hope that you will be happy and feel welcome to call this home.”

People began to move toward the sketches on the wall, drifting here and there to try to find a good fit for the thrown-together families of choice they’ve made. 

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Will had made his way over to Nathan and Sarah. There’s another very pretty girl sitting with them, who looks to be about Will's age. I could see Will smiling and talking to her, and her laughing at what he's said. Oh my, I thought to myself. It's not even been two hours and I already have to worry. Not that Will shouldn't like girls, or he shouldn't have a girlfriend. It's just that as his mother, I am very protective of my son. I felt an arm come around my waist. It's Mulder.

"Don't worry, mama bear,” he said quietly, only to me. “He’s just making friends. I promise you, I will keep a close eye on him. But you gotta remember, he is almost 17. Almost a man. You're gonna have to let him fly eventually."

I whispered back to him. "I know that, Mulder. But I'm not ready to let him go yet. We just got him back. I don't want him to fly."   
I turned to Mulder, hugging him and burying my head in his shirt to hide the tears sliding down my face. Mulder just held me and gave me time. After a moment, I pulled myself back together and Mulder and I both headed over to see Walter and start meeting our new neighbors.

As the barn started to empty, Will came over to tell us he was going to help Nathan, Sarah and Kylie move into their place. Mulder and I both just look at him and he knows. Rather than be interrogated, he volunteered:

"Her name is Kylie Winters. She’s 16. She lost both her parents and two little brothers during the first wave and she’s been with Mr. Skinner and the others since then. Nathan and Sarah are kind of like her — I dunno, her uncle and aunt? or like older brother and sister? Anyway they’re looking out for her. And we're just friends, mom.” This he directed at me, so full of teenage exasperation that it almost made me laugh. “Don't worry. I'm just helping them settle in."

I ruffled his hair and said, “OK, kiddo. Just helping them moving in I can handle. But you need to be back here in three hours. Your dad will need help with the boar. Got me?"

"Yeah, mom, I got you,” he sighed. 

Then he moved closer to me and said, “But do you think you could not ruffle my hair and call me kiddo in front of her?"

And then I did laugh. “Not a chance, buddy. You might be almost a man, but you will always be my baby."

At that, he just smiled and shook his head, turning on his heels and running back to Nathan and the others. Mulder and I couldn’t do anything but laugh a little; we said “Oh, boy” at the same time, with approximately equal levels of ruefulness. 

With all of that settled and everyone moving into their new accommodations, Mulder and I had some respite to decide what we were going to do with the three huge tankers full of fuel. We had the land on our place alone, but that wasn’t the problem — we needed to figure out the optimal plan for safety and access. We thought the best thing to do was spread them out: one in our pasture, one on another farm’s pasture, and the third near the far end of our little community. That would make it easier for people to re-fuel, while lessening the danger if one were to be compromised somehow. 

The day seemed never-ending, and there was so much work to be done; Mulder and I had to prioritize. “You know I’m right,” I said. “We just can't get it all done today. We'll have Walter direct people to move the tankers and U-Hauls off the road, into the field across from the house — you and I have to get going on the food, since you invited 50 people for dinner …” 

Seven hours later, having broken bread with the new arrivals and begun the long process of meeting everyone, we were all exhausted; promising more of a community celebration when we were a little more established, everyone went their separate ways, us to our familiar home and the new arrivals off to begin making a home of their unfamiliar houses. Tired as I was, it felt good to be a part of something again.   
Sleep — and Mulder — were calling me when I remembered we needed to have a conversation about him counseling people who were struggling with the loss and trauma they’d suffered since the virus had entered our lives. I thought he might object — he had studied psychology academically, not as a practitioner — but he said it was something he was thinking about too, and that maybe I could be the first screener for patients. 

"Scully, when you examine everyone, just ask a few basic questions: Are they sleeping? Are they having panic attacks or anxiety? Do they feel like they just don't care anymore? Do they feel suicidal? If you get a yes to any of those questions, send them to me. I may not be a doctor, but I’ve suffered and been treated for — well, nearly all of that. I’ll do the best I can to help."   
It was almost the last thing we said to each other that night; we just curled up next to each other and were asleep within minutes. As I was drifting, I was thinking, tomorrow will be a long day.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 4

 

It had been two months since Walter Skinner and his group arrived, enlarging our community from three people to over 50.   
In the first two weeks, I was able to to see everyone in my makeshift medical clinic; mostly, they were surprisingly healthy, although there were several people with asthma — luckily, we had picked up some inhalers, although we’ll to have to figure out a solution for helping people with breathing problems once the medications expire — one patient with a slight, treatable heart condition, and six children who had stomach problems; those, admittedly, had me stumped. But interviews with the children’s informally-adoptive parents (we had yet to find an intact family, alas), I came to the conclusion that these children probably had ulcers due to the stress they'd been under since the apocalypse: The parents told me the children were having nightmares regularly, and were afraid to be left alone. A pity, of course, but treatable with the right medicine and some therapy for PTSD, which seemed to be helping. 

The pregnant women were a category unto themselves. After examining Sarah for the first time I realized she was farther along than she thought — I estimated 8 1/2 months, give or take a day or two. To say that she and Nathan were surprised by this was an understatment; they were dumbstruck, and scared to death. But when I did an ultrasound, and showed them the first picture of their baby, both of them were mesmerized by what they saw on the screen: The baby was sucking its thumb. They could not believe it. Nathan held Sarah's hand, smiling, and Sarah shed happy tears as they looked on. I asked if they wanted to know the baby’s gender. They decided they wanted to be surprised, so I went on to tell them what to expect during labor and to come back to the clinic if anything happened, no matter what time of day or night. Babies don't have a schedule; they come when they want to. I, of all people, knew that pretty well.   
And although I had previously only attended a single childbirth (not counting my own unspeakably strange experience) — the fact that that had been in unsterile conditions, and in the middle of a hurricane in Florida, meant I felt as prepared as an OB/GYN for any and all issues, should they arise. Hopefully we would not have any issues — but I read everything I could find on the subject, just to be safe. 

As it turned out, the baby decided it was ready to be born at 3 a.m., just five days after I saw my patient last. A panicked Nathan and Sarah, with Kylie along for support, pulled into the yard after waking us with the Walkie. I dashed the sleep from my eyes, dressed hastily, and swung into action.  
“Have you been timing the contractions like I explained on your last appointment?,” I asked Nathan as we walked around to Sarah’s side of the truck.

"Yes, Dr. Scully. They’re six minutes apart and her water broke as I was helping her up to the seat, here.” 

He opened the door and helped his partner out; she was stoic but clearly suffering, and her eyes held no small amount of fear. I’d been where she was, and worse; I paused a moment — just a moment — to take her hand and say gently, “You’re going to be all right, Sarah. This part is hard, but you’ll get through it. OK?” She nodded, grateful, before doubling over and moaning as another wave of pain seized her.   
At that, my training took over; I went into doctor mode and started barking orders: “Get the stirrups hooked up like I showed you, Mulder. Nathan, you and Kylie bring Sarah over behind the screen and get her into this gown. Once you have her ready, bring her out and lay her on the gurney. I need to examine her."

As we worked, I noted that her contractions were getting closer together. This baby was ready to be born and we didn't have a lot of time, judging by the screams Sarah was voicing. With Sarah on the bed and her legs in the stirrups, I washed up, gloved myself, and performed an internal examination; I judged that she was nine centimeters dilated. I had thought to do a quick ultrasound to make sure the baby was in the right position, but after the exam — during which I was able to feel the top of its head, there was neither the time nor the need. Things were progressing rapidly; that was unusual for a first birth, but it meant we might not have to worry about fatigue and excessive blood loss, another bit of luck we’d been granted.

“Get up on the bed and support her,” I directed Nathan. Then, to Kylie: “Get on her other side and hold her hand."   
"Sarah," I said, "this baby is ready to be born. When you feel your next contraction I want you to take a deep breath and push, counting to ten before you stop."   
“Nathan, I want you to help her count and keep her focused."  
“Mulder, wash up and get gloved just in case I need your help. Stand behind me."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Will walking into the clinic, still half asleep in only his sweatpants, hair sticking out in every direction. He was rubbing his eyes and looking confused by all the noise. That lasted about ten seconds — because once he saw Kylie, he stopped in his tracks, turned and ran back to his room.

Sarah might have been scared, but she was young and strong; the span from the time she started pushing until the baby was delivered was less than fifteen minutes. Amid the cheers — and the tears — I asked Nathan if he wanted to cut the cord. He opted not to, so I did it and then handed them their daughter — little fighter she was, 8lbs and 6 ounces of piss and vinegar, a tiny miracle and the first brand-new citizen of our little community of survivors. 

Scarcely had we greeted the new arrival when a sweaty, ghost-white Mulder pulled me aside and said, "Scully, I want to help you as much as I can. Really I do. But this is just — too much for me." 

I couldn’t help laughing, just a little. I whispered, "Mulder, you've been in autopsy bays while I performed many, many autopsies on everything from a flukeman to an alien housed in a human and you can't handle this?"  He shook his head no and ran to vomit in the bathroom. 

When he came back he said, “It was the blood, Scully. The blood along with the screaming is more than I can handle. I have my limits. Apparently, this is one of them." 

I led him upstairs into our bedroom and helped him into bed. I was still laughing -- I just couldn't help it. With all he's seen in his lifetime, all that we've been through -- he draws the line at red blood from a screaming woman giving birth. I gave him a kiss and told him not to worry — Will is in training at the Scully College of Medicine, so Mulder can retire from his own unofficial nursing duties. He nodded yes, with a shaky smile. I wondered to myself for a moment -- how he would have fared at the birth of our son? Maybe it was a blessing he wasn't there until it was over.   
I went back downstairs; the night was far from finished for me. Will had joined Nathan, Sarah, Kylie and the baby back in the clinic. This time he was fully dressed, hair just right, and I chuckled to myself because I could smell his cologne before I even got close to them. Obviously, the cologne was for Kylie's benefit. But I was glad that we’d agreed on the place our son will have here. Will has already become my right hand man in the clinic — I’m teaching him everything I can, and he clearly has the aptitude. He is like a sponge, and has an eidetic memory just like his father. One day when I'm not able to do this anymore, it's good to know he will be able to fill my shoes.

*****  
At some point, somebody had slipped out to tell the news of the healthy, live birth to the small pre-dawn crowd that had gathered on our porch and lawn — word travels fast, I suppose, and everyone needed the kind of hope that new life brings.  
Sarah and Nathan named her Melanie Katherine Burgess — Melanie after Sarah’s mom; Katherine after me — which, of course, made me tear up — and Burgess is Nathan’s last name. We started a new book of records with the birth, feeling like pioneers in a new colony, which I guess we were.

I kept Sarah and the baby with us that day and overnight, to make sure they were all right; I feared everything from infection to embolism, beyond needing time for the usual tasks of learning how to nurse and taking care of the cord stump. But the next evening Nathan took Sarah and their new baby girl home, along with Kylie, who’d been, in effect, more or less apprenticing as a nanny. I told them that if they needed anything at all, to call me on the walkie.

I was glad we didn’t have to repeat the experience right away; the other three mothers-to-be were in different stages of their pregnancies. I kept a close eye on all of them, but the next wasn’t due for a few weeks, and the other two were in their first trimester, requiring little but hydration, prenatal vitamins, and what rest they could get.

*****

A few days later, Will, Mulder and I were sitting at the table having breakfast when someone came beating on the front door. Mulder and I looked at each other with worry in our eyes. This was not a friendly knock. The only people who had keys to our gate were Nathan and Walter, so we knew it had to be one of them. Mulder jumped up, grabbing his glock, which put Will on the alert.   
I grabbed Will by the arm. “Stay here. Let your father see what’s going on first."  
He didn't like it, but he did what I asked. Knowing he was willing to put himself in harm’s way for his father reminded me so much of how alike the two really are.   
Mulder came back in a moment with an out-of-breath Walter. We sat him down, letting him recover for a minute before trying to find out what was going on.

Finally he said, "We've got trouble."

"Trouble, what kind of trouble? How do you mean?" Mulder demanded.

Walter replied, "While I was up doing my morning walk through I came across Chris. The one we picked up on our way here. He was trying to get into the Livingston house. When I yelled at him, he pulled his gun out and fired at me. Damn near took my head off. I felt the bullet whiz past my head. I drew my weapon and warned him to drop the gun. He didn't listen. He took off running and I fired on him. I hit him for sure, but not mortally because he got up and was able to get away from me. I gave chase but even with him having a gunshot wound, I lost him. Mulder — when I started looking for him, I saw no blood.” He grimaced, rubbing his face. “Well — I shouldn't say no blood; there was blood. It just wasn't red. It was green."

"Green?" My voice was louder than I intended. "How can that be?"

Mulder put a steadying hand on my shoulder. "Scully, you know as well as I do there were human hybrids. They were immune to the virus, just like you and Will. It doesn't surprise me to hear there are still some alive.” I shook my head no, but he went on. “What surprises me is -- what the hell is he doing out here? Why was he trying to get into the Livingstons’, and how are we gonna kill him?"

And there it was. I looked over at Will, who looked back and forth between the three of us, confused. Mulder and I had shielded him from all of this, but clearly his ignorance was about to end. It was time he knew the ugly truth.

"Will,” I began, “I know you have questions, and believe me I will give you the answers. Just let Walter your dad and I talk first, OK?“

"No," he said. “I want to know what’s going on. I'm not a baby anymore. I want to be in on this discussion. I know there’s a lot of things you and dad keep from me because you don't think I can handle it, but I'm telling all of you, I can handle it. So I'm staying."  
He was serious, and more assertive than we’d ever seen him. Reminded me of myself — an odd thing to think at a time like that. Mulder and I looked at each other and I nodded yes. The crash course in Human Hybrid 101 would start now -- the expedited version, of course.   
We told Will everything we knew of these human hybrids: Where they came from and what purpose they served, that their green blood is toxic — and that trying to kill one with anything other than a shot to the back of the neck was impossible. He took it all in. Didn't flinch, didn't look scared. He just looked determined and ready to do what was necessary to take care of this problem.

Mulder addressed Walter: "Well, it shouldn't be that hard to track him, with the snowfall last night. You know which general direction he went in, I assume?"

"Yeah," Walter said, troubled. “He went out past the limits of our compound. Moving at a rapid pace. The problem is, how the hell are we gonna get the upper hand on him when anywhere we shoot him — unless it's in the back of the neck — could get us hurt or killed?”  
Grim silence fell as we all thought it over. 

Mulder said finally, "We need to call a meeting. Get all the able bodied men and their weapons to the barn. We need to track him and take care of this problem as soon as possible. I want to know why he was at the Livingston house, so we need them to be escorted here as soon as possible."

”Dad, I'm going with you."  
Mulder looked at Will with love in his eyes, but a sternness I had never seen him direct our son’s way. "Will, it's not that I don't think you can do this. I know you can. But I am sure before all of this is over, there will be casualties. I hope no one dies, but there will definitely be injuries that will need tending to. Your mother will need your help. Plus, with both of you here, you can protect our home. You need to have your mother's back just like both of you will have ours."  
To my immense relief, Will agreed. He understood what his father was telling him and didn't put up a fight: He would stay where he was needed the most and do whatever we needed him to do. 

Mulder and Walter got up and headed for the door. "Mulder, wait."

He stopped and turned around to face me. He could see the worry in my eyes. He pulled me to him with a quick, fierce kiss and said, “It's nothing we haven't done before, Scully. You know I won't let this thing beat us. You and Will are my world."  
Will put his arms around both of us; our little family held tight, promising things we couldn’t say out loud.   
But the moment couldn’t last forever; we had to get moving. As he let go, Will said, "Dad, don't worry about me or mom. I promise I will keep us safe. Make sure you keep you and everyone else safe.” He paused, then added, “Chris is by the big lake."  
I looked at Mulder and Mulder looked at me. Then we both turned to Will; at the same time, Mulder asked “What do you mean?” and I said “How do you know?”  
Will shut his eyes. "I don't know how I know. I just do. It's like I can feel him. I see him drinking water from the big lake. He has a bullet wound to his upper left thigh, but it's healing. You guys don't have much time. He’ll be gone soon. He’s just waiting for it to heal completely.”  
Walter confirmed, "I hit him in the leg, I know that for sure. Will is right."  
A look passed between Mulder and me. I’d told him a long time ago that Will had abilities, but we never discussed the details, and since Will had been back with us, there had never seemed to be time, or the right time. The three of us were overdue for a serious conversation — but once again, it wasn’t the time.   
Mulder took Will at his word. He grabbed his boots and jacket while I pulled a couple of walkies, packing them in a bag along with enough provisions for both of them. They took the sniper rifle, and Mulder had his sidearm; both had plenty of ammo. Mulder used the walkie to call half of the men to the barn, telling them to bring their weapons and provisions — and to escort the Livingstons to the barn. The other half of men were to stay and be on guard, including two people each at the front and back of our house.  
As Mulder and Walter headed out, he looked back at Will and I. “Don't worry — we’ll be fine. Please, for me, stay inside. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, promise me.” We did. “Keep your weapons on you at all times, OK?”  
I told him not to worry — “Will and I have got this covered. Just be safe out there and come back to us.” They both nodded soberly, turning at last to leave. As soon as the door shut, I went to my knees.   
Will bent down, draping a lanky arm across my shoulder. “Mom, he’s going to be all right. Don't worry."

"How do you know that, Will?" I wish my voice sounded less desperate, less afraid, but the danger of the situation and the weight of our past were heavy on my mind.

“I’ve always had this … ability to know things. Like I knew when the virus hit, that my other parents weren’t gonna make it. I knew you and dad would come find me. And you did. I just — know things. Not everything, not all the time, but often enough — and I never told anyone because I was scared people would think I was crazy or something. But I'm telling you, I know Dad will be fine and so will Mr. Skinner. They’ll find Chris.” He settled himself down on the floor next to me, like a big earnest puppy not used to the size of his paws — it would’ve been almost funny if the situation weren’t so fraught. “We are gonna have some injuries to tend to, though. To the eyes. Like burns. Three of the guys are gonna get their eyes burned. But not Dad and not Mr. Skinner. Mr. Skinner will get the shot he needs to take out Chris."  
Ignoring the disquiet I felt — if it were true, what Will was telling me, then where did this ability come from, and did it expose him to more danger? — I said, “But you didn't know that Walter and the others would make it here. You were so worried about them."  
He frowned, an exact replica of an expression I’ve seen in the mirror countless times in my life. “Well … I wasn’t completely honest about that, Mom. I knew you were worried but I didn't want to tell you I knew they would be all right because I didn't want you or Dad to think I was crazy.” I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t have said that, but we’d both know I would have thought it — and worried about him — so I kept quiet.   
He continued, a little apologetically, “And I didn't know until they were much closer that they were OK. I can't see everything. I get glimpses. Unless it’s directly tied to me. My other parents were directly tied to me. I knew. You and dad are directly tied to me, so I know. Nathan and I bonded when he was here, and although we hadn't been friends for that long we did have a little bit of a bond. I think that's why it took so long to know. Now that we have all these others with us It's easier for me to know things."  
I pulled Will to me and hugged him so tight. He did the same to me. I knew he was telling the truth, this amazing teenager in my arms, my own flesh and blood that I love more than life itself.   
At last I let him go, telling him that we had better ready the clinic for the fallout of today’s events — burns, he’d said, and to the eyes, good God — not to mention the usual cuts, abrasions, contusions; possibly broken bones, animal bites, gunshot wounds …   
While we were preparing for the worst case scenario, Nathan, Sarah, the baby and Kylie made their way into the house. I felt relief come over me. I had been thinking about them being down at their house alone and had planned to call them on the walkie to come here. Nathan said he tried to go with Mulder, but Mulder had told him no as well — he wasn’t about to let any harm come to the new father. As glad as we were to be all together, tension was thick and conversation was hard to come by; we worked in silence mostly.   
I kept my eye on Will, who at times would close his eyes and concentrate. Then he would look at me and just shake his head, letting me know they were still OK. We didn't tell the others about what Will was able to do; that’s not the kind of thing to share unreservedly, especially not when we suddenly didn’t know whether we could trust everyone in the community.   
So we kept busy — and we waited.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

 

The last vestiges of light started slowly slipping away as day became night. The colors in the sky starting at a brilliant orange and as the sun went down turning into a deep purple -- like a bruise. It felt ominous and foreboding. Will and Kylie were settled on the love seat in the living room talking. Nathan and Sarah were seated on the couch with the baby. I was in the kitchen at the the table. Worried. They'd been gone all day. We lost word from them about two that afternoon. The walkies had a two mile distance. So they were out of range. All I get now when I try to raise them is static. Looking up at Will constantly making eye contact but not speaking. Will just continues to shake his head letting me know that they're o.k. but nothing more than that. I am pretty sure at this point he thinks he is protecting me from the worst possible news -- So I think about sending a couple of the guys that stayed behind on the compound, out to search but as I'm contemplating this very idea, Will walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. I look up at him and he directs his head towards the hallway. Wanting me to follow him. I get up and we both head into the office and shut the door.

"What is it, Will? Are you sensing them? Can you see them? Did they get, Chris?" I whisper while my hands rest on his arms.

"Mom, I can feel you really strong. You worry too much. Chris turned into green goo. The rest are on their way back now. It's taking a long time because of Sam, Eli and Dylan. Their hurt."

"Is it their eyes, Will?"

"Yeah, and Dylan's leg. He was hit by a bullet. Dad and Mr. Skinner have made a make shift cot and they have Dylan on it pulling him. Eli and Sam are on either side of them. Holding on because they can't see that well. It's slowing them down."

"How bad is Dylan's leg? Can you see if the bullet went through or am I gonna have to dig it out of him?"  
Will closes his eyes and looks to be in deep thought. I notice his head tilting from one side to the other. This goes on for about a minute, then he says: "It went straight through. He's lost a lot of blood, though. He's unconscious. Dad thinks it may have hit an artery. Dad and Mr. Skinner tied a tourniquet around it to slow down the blood loss."

"Will, do we need to send anybody after them?" I ask right as my walkie sounds. "Oh thank god," I whisper.

"Scully" came a tired sounding Mulder from the other end.

"Mulder, it's me" I choked out while trying to hold back the tears that want to run down my cheeks.

"We're almost there. We see the compound. Dylan"

I stop him and tell him I already know. Dylan is shot in his leg. The bullet went through But he's lost a lot of blood, and that Sam and Eli along with Dylan have burns to their eyes. Mulder confirming what I told him. He asks, " You get all that from" I stop him again and let him know we will talk about it later. Just get back here. "10/4, Doc. We'll see you in about 15 minutes"  
I look up at Will and as I walk to the door and open it -- I tell him to go get with the guys outside. Find out if anyone has O negative blood. We're gonna need it if Dylan needs a transfusion.   
Before Will can get out the door Nathan jumps up hearing me from the hallway and say's "What about O negative?" I tell him we're in need of O negative blood that Dylan has been shot in the leg and has lost a lot of blood. We might need to transfuse him. Nathan lets me know he is O negative and he will give blood.   
Luckily this is just what Will needs. I have been teaching him how to get an IV started. I've been his pin cushion for the last several weeks. With the bruises to prove it. "Will" I say. I don't have to finish my thought Will say's "on it, Mom. I've got this."   
He pulls out all the necessary medical supplies needed. While I look on. I will let him do this. If he needs my help I know he will ask. He scrubs and gloves and very efficiently get's the IV inserted like a pro and hooks Nathan up to a bag. "One pint" I tell him. "Nathan will need to stay sitting for a while. We don't want him passing out."   
One thing we don't have the luxury of at the moment is sweets. Juice and a cookie would be the perfect thing to give Nathan. But, we don't have either. Then I remember I do have some canned cherries from this past summer. I canned them myself. I ask Kylie to go down into the basement and get those. I tell her where they are. She is happy to help. I look out into the living room and see Sarah laying on the sofa with the baby feeding. Mother and child sleeping. Not for long I think as I turn and start pulling medical supplies for Dylans leg wound. Hoping like hell the artery hasn't been severely damaged. If it has, there really isn't anything I can do. Hopefully it's just knicked. We will just have to wait and see -- which doesn't take long. Right about that time, the back door opens.  
As if on cue, I feel a surge rush through my veins. It's like pure adrenaline. "Will, hold on to Nathan and move to the kitchen table. Remember only one pint." "Mulder, Skinner, get Dylan on the gurney. Sam and Eli can sit at the table. Mulder I'm gonna need you to take Sam and Eli one at a time to the sink and rinse their eyes with the sterile water I put over there. Then bandage them.   
As efficently as possible we are doing a dance in the make shift clinic. Will taking Nathans blood, Mulder and Skinner working on Sam and Eli leaving me to tend to Dylan. Who is still unconscious. After scubbing and gloving myself I start an IV on him and cut away his pants. Will by this time is done getting blood. He comes over with the bag. I tell him to put it in the fridge until I'm ready for it. I turn and look at Nathan. He looks a bit pale and I remind him to stay sitting. Kylie is by his side giving him some of the juice from the cherry jar. I return my attention back to Dylan and tell Will to get scrubbed in and help me. Dylan has a through and through for sure. No bullet in there and from what I can tell it didn't hit the bone or any major arteries. Came close to his femoral artery, though. Another milimeter to the left and he would of blead out before they got him back. He is very lucky. After cleaning and making sure there are no bullet fragments anywhere I give him a local antistetic and tell Will to sew him up. The blood loss was just from the wound itself. No major damage. I give him the blood along with a antibiotic, just to be on the safe side then scrub out.   
"Will, I am leaving you in charge. If Dylan comes too before I get back, there is a syringe with 4 miligrams of morphine on the table over next to his bed. He will need it. Just put it in the IV line like I showed you. Tend to Sam and Eli for me, o.k.?"  
"I'm in charge?" he says. I look at him and smile and give him a shake of my head.  
I look over at Mulder and Skinner and start walking out of the kitchen and down the hall to the office with them following. We need to talk about what took place. And where we go from here.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

 

18 October 2018

 

So after many years of not writing in a journal, I feel it's the best course of action after our harrowing day in our newly cemented community.  After Mulder and Walter came back from taking care of Chris and the daunting task for Will and I nursing Sam, Eli, and Dylan back to health.  I feel that things should be recorded for prosperity and future issues or happenings as they arise.  I will just begin at the moment Mulder, Walter and I went into the office to talk.

 

They both followed me into the office and Mulder pulled the door shut.  Mulder sat down on the sofa and Walter walked to the window and stood staring out of it for the longest time.  I sat beside Mulder.  Mulder and I both watched Walter for a while and just as I started to say something to break the silence, Walter shoved his hands deep into his pockets and started speaking turning to both of us as he did so.  "I should have followed my gut instinct.  Something told me not to allow him to come with us.  I want to apologize for bringing him here.  I feel totally responsible for that.  Dan Livingston is the one who found him.  We had stopped in West Virgina in the mountains for the night.  We all felt it would be a good place to hunt.  Dan formed a hunting team and left early that next morning.  They were gone most of the day and just before the sun started to set we all saw them making their way back to us with several deer and an extra person.  Me being me, immediately went on the alert.  I'd never seen this man and I had that feeling.  Dan pulled me to the side and said they ran across him in a makeshift tent,  He looked like he was starving and thirsty.  He said we sat with him and shared our food with him.  Asked him how he came to be where he was.  Dan told me to go talk to him myself.  Let him tell you his story.  Dan said his name is Chris Dillard.  So that's what I did.  I went over to him and asked him how he came to be there.  Chris told me that when the virus hit, he had been watching Tad O'Malley.  Tad told everyone to stay inside to be safe.  Chris said he was a doomsday prepper so he had enough food and supplies to last several months.  When he finally started getting low on supplies, he left his home and made his way as far away as he could make it with what little supplies he had left.  He said he wore a gas mask to make it out of the city and just kept walking north until he couldn't walk anymore.  He forged his way into the wilderness and had been there ever since.  Living off what little he was able to trap or catch in the river in the mountains.  He didn't know how long he had been there and had resided that he would die where he was.  He said he had not run upon another living soul until Mr. Livingston and the hunting party found him.  I was still skeptical and asked him if he had been treated for the virus?  He said no.  That between not leaving his home for those months and having the gas mask on until he left the city he was lucky enough not to catch it. That should have sent red flags up for me immediately.  I knew better.  So I got up and went back to the rest of our commune of people since we should all have a say.  I filled everyone in on the story he gave me and said we should do this Democratically and take a vote.  I was the only no.  Everyone else said yes and followed with, we can't just leave him here to die.  He's not sick, he has nobody else and he might come in handy in our new community.  So basically I was out voted and Chris became part of the pack."

I watched Walter through his entire explanation as did Mulder and we both agreed that if we were in the same position, we would have made the same choice.  It wasn't Walters fault any more than the rest of them.  Walter still had the look of dread and regret in his eyes.  He feels responsible for putting us all in danger and for the 3 guys who got hurt.  I looked at him and told him he needn't worry.  Sam, Eli, and Dylan will be fine.  Chris Dillard is gone and no one but Chris died.  All is well.  Mulder agreed with me.

All three of us decided we need to make some new rules, however.  Ones that will ensure this kind of thing doesn't happen again.  Firstly, there will be a security force.  Mulder and I both said Walter should head this.  Walter agreed.  He would vet any and all prospects to make sure they were worthy for the positions to be delved out.  Secondly, I would now get blood work on all our new neighbors.  Something that I did not do when they first arrived.  I only did blood work on the mothers to be and children who were sick along with the few folks that had medical issues.  Everyone else that appeared healthy was spared any unnecessary procedures.  Not anymore.  I have a decontamination suit.  I will screen everyone who was left out initially, protecting myself with the suit in case one of them were a hybrid.  We will have security on hand to ensure that everyone follows the rule.  Third and final thing we decided that night was, any new person to show up will be screened and scrutinized the same way.  It is the only way to ensure everyone's safety.

We still needed to find out why Chris was trying to get into the Livingston house. That was something for Walter and his soon to be newly recruited security team to tackle.  For now, everyone will go home and get some rest.  The first of our new rules would begin in the morning.  Walter suggested that we keep a few men on watch all around the compound as well as at the Livingston house until we can get to the bottom of the matter and that will give Walter the time he needs to vet the security team. If they passed Walters standards and hadn't had a previous blood screening, that would take place before they were given the responsibility.   Mulder and I agreed with this as well.

With that, the meeting ended and we all went back into the main part of the house.

Later that night after everyone went their separate ways, Mulder, Will and myself sat down and talked.  We decided that as far as Will's abilities were concerned.  No one other than Walter and the three of us needs to know about them.  It gave us a one up and helped to protect Will from any danger that may lie ahead.  We also agreed to be armed at all times of the day or night until the security team is up and running.  Just in case.

 

 

Dana Scully M.D.

 


End file.
